Fever
by Lover's End
Summary: Who is like me and ever wondered about the day the Bauds got fever? OK, I think I'm like the only one. Oh well. So that's why this story is here. Oneshot. Sort of stupid.


**Fever**

**Ohkay, so I was bored. I mean, really bored. So I wrote this little one-shot about the day that the Bauds got fever...oh, you probably don't remember that part, do you? Haha, it was during their rememberances of their parents, etc...what book is it from, I forget.**

**Whatever. I thought it'd be an okayish one shot.**

**So. Here we go.**

Violet woke up and got out of bed. The world felt weird. Her head felt light and dizzy, the world tilting drastically under her feet. She groped around blindly, although her eyes were open, and held on to the knob of her bed to keep from collapsing. Crawling back in bed, she could feel a slight headache come on, and her limbs felt like jelly. She was unable to move them, and unable to get rid of the light tickling sensation they were giving her. Violet twitched slightly. She felt terrible. Putting a hand to her head, she could feel it burning, even though her hand was cool, although slick with sweat.

"Mother!" she called, trying to make her mother hear her. Violet's voice was hoarse and raspy, it didn't seem to belong to her. Her mother, though, heard her perfectly well, and rushed in. She took one look and Violet and sighed, looking deeply upset. "Oh dear...oh dear..." She called for Violet's father, who came in. He saw Violet too, and sighed. "There's nothing we can do, really. I suppose they can all just stay in the spare room together."

"Yes, yes...alright."

A few minutes later, the three Baudelaire children tottered unsteadily down the hall. Klaus adjusted his glasses. "It's thankful that this fever, while very uncomfortable, isn't fatal. I don't think it'd be best for anyone if we died so early."

Violet almost wanted to laugh, despite the aches now cramping up her arms. Klaus was never too tired, too sick, too _anything_ to define a word or give a thorough explanation on something.

It was Sunny though, that the Baudelaire parents were very worried about. Sunny's little face was a deep, tomato red, and she was coughing, sneezing, and crying out. Violet wished that Sunny would just shut up. It was bad enough feeling so terrible, now Sunny was wailing. Klaus had thrown up twice, Violet only once. It was very uncomfortable, and their father came in as little as possible, leaving them with wet towels on their foreheads. Sometimes, though, he'd come in, forgetting about their illness, and try to take care of all three of them at once.

Still, though, as day faded to night and night faded back to day, the children only got sicker and sicker and the world rainier and rainier...

A doctor came on the fourth day. He said that the illness was going around, and there was nothing that could be done. Rest, fluids, and antibiotics, the doctor said. All that was needed for them to make the eventual recovery.

They got rest, they got fluids, they got antibiotics. But as the days faded in and out, there didn't seem to be much hope.

Sunny was the first to recover, which came as a shock to the whole family. The littlest, the weakest, the sickest one. How could she have recovered so soon, so fully? But she had.

Violet finally rolled over. "Klaus, are we going to die?"

It was an odd question coming from the older child. Most of the times, wouldn't it be the younger child asking such questions to an elder child?

But the Baudelaires were not most children.

"No Violet. Remember, this illness isn't fatal."

"Although very, very uncomfortable."

"Yes. Very, very."

"Very."

"Very."

"Well."

"It's raining."  
"Yes, it is."

"Raining hard."

"Yes, it is."

"Did you know that, if it weren't for a certain something in the air, raindrops would kill us? I wish I could specify what that something was, but being sick has put my memory on the blink."

"I didn't know that. Well, the first one anyway. I'm sure about the second one. I feel...very unlike myself. Honestly, I will have no worse feeling in my life, since this sickness really takes the cake."

She had fallen asleep then, and she wasn't sure if she had woken up the same day, or if it was the day afterwards.

Her head pounded and throbbed, but the feelings had left her limbs, she felt stronger. More powerful. It was an amazing feeling. Amazing. Violet leapt out of the bed, and just realized that Klaus wasn't in his bed either.

Were they better?

No matter. Violet ran and shrieked like she was but three years old again. Her mother found her and started laughing.

"It'll be a few days until you are fully recovered, Violet. I find it hard to believe you slept through yesterday. But no matter. Come down, come down. We're just eating breakfast."

If only Violet knew that the sickness was not the worst feeling she would ever have in her life.

If only they had all known...

**Ahhh...the joys of one-shots. Who likes writing them? I do. Although they can be really complicated. Oh well.**

**I hope you liked it.**

**- Emily**


End file.
